


Snow

by frozenraspberry



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Natasha/Clint Brotp, SHIELD agents - Freeform, Snow White AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7540174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenraspberry/pseuds/frozenraspberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw a need for a stucky Snow White AU and filled it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

The ground in the cellar was cold, and Bucky tried to keep his feet from making contact with it as he scrubbed away at his handler’s clothing; his own clothes, which were made from patches of his handler’s old, bloodstained clothing, were too ragged to keep him warm. This was an everyday occurrence; Bucky was woken in the 20 ft-by-20-ft, slate gray cellar by the sound of the enormous, guarded, doors opening, he completed his chores in the cellar, and he went back to sleep at night in the cellar, in a small nest he had fashioned for himself out of clothes that he'd deemed too dirty or too torn to return back to his handler. His life was a never ending cycle of waking, scrubbing endless clothing, and drifting back into dreamless sleep.  
The only thing that kept him sane was singing. His voice was low, and slightly gravely, but if there were anyone around to hear it, it would break their heart.  
“I'm wishing,” he sang, his voice bouncing against the stone walls and echoing back.  
“For the one I love,” another echo.  
“To find me, Today”. He kept scrubbing, the wooden brush in his hand causing blisters to pop up and crack in his hand. More clothing slid down the shoot, all blood stained and wrinkled. Every time Bucky heard that thump of more clothing to wash, he swore he hated Alexander Pierce a little bit more.  
There was a single window among the walls, hung slightly too high for Bucky to see out. It was sealed only with a screen, but it was much too small for him to fit through. He had, of course, tried many times to squeeze through the small hole, but to no avail.  
He dropped his scrubbing brush, and backed all the way up to the wall opposite the window. He squinted, and looked up at the sky. There were blue jays, and bugs. There was life, and if Bucky couldn't have it, he would damn well appreciate it, at least.  
“I'm hoping,” he sang again, “and I'm dreaming, of the nice things he’ll say.”  
Bucky heard a voice, suddenly. It was the first voice he'd heard in years, aside from that of his handler.  
“Is someone down there?” Asked the voice.  
“YES,” Bucky heard himself yell. His voice was raw. “HELPMEHELPMEHELPME,” he began to cry. This was the day he'd been waiting for forever.  
A face leaned into view, and the tears kept streaming down Bucky’s face. The man was beautiful, with crystalline blue eyes, blond hair, and an almost effeminate mouth.  
“I'm gonna get you out of here- don't worry,” the man sounded hurried, almost in a panic. He pushed the screen into the window, and it clattered on the ground. “Is someone keeping you here?” He asked.  
“Yes- yes- I have to get out, you have to help me” Bucky was almost hyperventilating, and backing himself into the corner.  
“You've gotta help me help you, buddy. Who's keeping you?”  
“Alexander- Alexander Pierce,” He stuttered.  
“Like, Pierce Tech, Alexander Pierce?” The man asked.  
“Yes,” Bucky responded, trying to keep himself calm.  
“Wow.” The man whistled. “Not to be rude, but you're in some deep shit, pal. It's okay, though, we're getting you out.”  
“Okay,” Bucky breathed out, forcing himself to inhale. “How?” He asked.  
“I- I don't know yet,” the man said, realizing quickly that this was a lot more difficult than he had anticipated. “I guess we’re going to have to make a bigger hole,” he said. He sat down in front of the window, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small grey device, with a flashing red light. “This is gonna be loud, so we're gonna have to get you out as soon as it goes off.”  
“What do you mean? What does ‘go off’ mean?”  
“We're gonna blow a small hole in the wall,” the man said as he busily fastened the device to the edge of the window.  
“You mean you just carry explosives with you?” Bucky asked, suddenly skeptical about whether he should trust the man.  
“I'll explain later,” he said. “Okay. You've got T minus 10… 9… 8…”  
“Oh god,” Bucky said, feeling like he could puke.  
“6… 5…”  
“Shit,” Bucky exhaled.  
“3… 2… 1…”  
Bang.  
Suddenly, there was a gaping hole in the wall. The man reached his arm through, waving for Bucky to come to him.  
“We don't have a lot of time, c’mon,” he said. Bucky ran toward him, grabbing his hand, and climbing through the wall. The sun was blinding, and it was scorching outside. Bucky felt like he was being burned alive. He felt tears well up in his eyes again. The man was still holding his hand, practically dragging him back to a blue, vintage looking buggy.  
“What's your name, again?” The man asked as he opened the passenger door.  
“I didn't tell you,” Bucky was hyperventilating. “It's B-Bucky.” He stuttered.  
“Bucky. I like that.” The man said, trying to calm him down. “My name is Steve, Steve Rogers.” He said as Bucky climbed into the car. Steve walked around the front and got into the drivers seat.  
“Is that your real name- or are you some kind of super-spy?”  
“Well, Bucky, I'm not not a super-spy, but that is my name.” He said as he started the car and began down the unbeaten path. The last time Bucky had seen the outside of the cellar, he'd been a 17 years old. He wasn't completely sure how old he was now, but he reckoned he was about 25.  
“Oh.” Bucky said, dumbfounded. “Well, your name sounds fake anyway.”  
Steve laughed. “I know, I know. I come from a long line of fake sounding people.” He noticed that Bucky had curled into himself, shaking, and grabbed his hand, taking his eyes off the road to look at him. “It's gonna be alright, pal. You're gonna be okay.”  
Bucky inhaled sharply, squeezing Steve's hand. “Okay.” He said, his eyes taking on a thousand-yard stare, his mind obviously far away.  
“Really, Bucky. You never have to see the inside of that place again.”  
Bucky looked down at their hands, noticing that they were still interlocked,  
fingers laced together. He let go of Steve's hand, moving it to rest in a fist, in the space between his thighs.  
“Where are we going?” Bucky asked, attempting to cut the awkwardness that has sprouted between them.  
“I was thinking we'd go to a hotel for tonight?” Steve asked.  
“That sounds g-good.” Bucky’s speech impediment made another appearance. Steve couldn't help but blush, the stutter was kinda cute.

They were silent the rest of the way; Bucky had even drifted off once or twice, until after about 2 hours of driving they came upon a deserted looking motel in the darkness.  
“Bucky,” Steve whispered, nudging at the sleeping man’s shoulder. Bucky’s eyes slowly opened.  
“Where are we?” He asked, obviously very confused in his drowsiness. Steve nodded toward the blinking red sign that read, FRANNY’S MOTEL.  
“Oh.” Bucky said. “S-sorry, I'm just not u-used to all this,” he stared at his lap.  
“Don't worry about it. Really,” Steve patted his shoulder, causing him to jump. “You ready to get out?” He asked.  
“S-sure.” Bucky said, beginning to shake again. He reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand again, throwing his pride out the window. “I'm scared.”  
“I know you are. It's okay to be scared, though. As long as you keep going.” Steve said. He let go of Bucky’s hand to get out of the car, but laced their fingers together again when he opened the passenger door. They walked through the revolving door, and up to the counter, where a woman with a kind, lipstick stained, smile greeted them.  
“How can I help you boys?” She asked with a southern drawl, flashing her teeth.  
“Um, two beds, for one night, please.” Steve said, politely. Bucky tightened his grip on his hand.  
“No problem,” said the woman. She charged Steve’s card, and handed them the key to room 37. They left the main office, and walked, Steve in front of Bucky, through the dimly lit hall into their room. Once Steve shut the door behind them both, a look of fear welled up in Bucky’s eyes.  
“Steve,” he pleaded. In his head, he was back in the cellar. “Пожалуйста, пожалуйста, пожалуйста. Я не пенимую. Я не пенимую. Я не хорошо.”  
“Bucky, come back. C’mon, pal, it's okay,” he whispered, grabbing his other hand, trying to pull him back into the real world. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head frantically. “Я не знает. Я-я не знает.” He frantically repeated himself. “I don't know,” he exhaled sharply, remembering how to speak English. His eyes welled up with tears, “I don't remember how to sleep in a bed,” his voice cracked and broke. Steve found himself on the verge of tears as well, unable to help the man falling apart in front of him.  
“I know, Buck,” he tried to soothe him. “Do you wanna sleep in the same bed as me? I don't mind, pal, I'll keep you company, if you want.”  
“S-s-sure,” he sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.  
“Let's get you some real pajamas, too. Those ol’ rags can't be comfortable,” Steve trailed off, his attention suddenly brought to Bucky’s patchwork clothing. He sat Bucky down on the bed farthest from the door, and told him to stay put while he went out to the car to grab his overnight bag. Bucky let go of Steve’s hand, reluctantly, and curled up at the foot of the bed.  
Steve came back a few minutes later, with a big, blue, wheelie suitcase. “Alright,” he said, as he plopped the big thing on its side and unzipped it. “Sweat pants and a shirt for you.” He pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee shirt. “Do you wanna go to the bathroom to change, or?”  
“Y-yeah,” Bucky said. He took the pajamas from Steve and cautiously approached the bathroom door. He reached out the grab the handle, resting his hand on it, trying to remember which way you turn door handles.  
“Right.” Steve cut in.  
“I know,” Bucky said, defensively. He opened the door slightly, and stepped in sideways, leaving the door cracked. He changed quickly and quietly, and came back into the bedroom. The sweatpants were way too big for him, almost laughably so. He was borderline emaciated, having only been fed the bare minimum for the past 7 years. Steve laughed when he looked up and saw Bucky in his clothes. He walked over, and rolled the waist of Bucky’s sweatpants over itself.  
“That's better,” he smiled.  
“Don't patronize me, Rogers.” Bucky smiled too, for the first time. It hurt his face, but in a good way, like cracking your knuckles for the first time in a week.  
“You ready for, uh, to go to bed?” Steve asked, getting flustered.  
“R-ready as I'll ever be.” Bucky’s face went serious again, and he glared at the queen sized bed.  
Steve got in first, before pushing the blanket back and patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for Bucky to lay down. He complied, clambering in next to Steve.  
“Don't’cha think you should take me to dinner first?” Bucky joked, dawning a sheepish grin.  
“Let's focus on the matter at hand, then we'll see if this goes anywhere,” Steve said, without missing a beat. Bucky pulled the blankets over himself, obviously copying Steve's every move. They both lay on their sides, facing each other.  
“You've got it. That's it- now all you've gotta do is fall asleep.” Steve said, yawning.  
“It's- it's so soft.” Bucky said.  
“I know, right?” Steve asked, happily.  
“No,” Bucky said, “it's, too soft. I'm used to  
stone floors, I guess.”  
“Oh,” Steve said. “I get that. I used to be military. It took me forever to get used to real beds.”  
Bucky yawned. “You should get some sleep,” he said. “You seem tired.”  
“You do too,” Steve said.  
“I've been tired for the past 7 years,” Bucky yawned again.  
“Then go to sleep,” Steve said, his eyes already shut.

___

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming soon!   
> (does anybody remember that screen before all the Disney movies on DVD where it's all blue and there's a voice saying "coming soon, to something something something"?)


End file.
